The harvest is finally in, it was a race against the coming cold and the threat of rain. The hands of the farmers from the Northdowns that Crow and Nettie escorted down to work the fields were exactly what we needed. It is nice to have a full house once again, Mother is in her element with people to take care of and children underfoot. Watching the last of the barley being cut down was a weight off my shoulders, for to lose any of the grain due to lack of labor would be a failing on my part.
We are still struggling to earn back what was lost last season to the raid and pay for the repairs, our coffers are much lighter. If Father was here he would have set things right faster than I have, he would have known what to do. I miss him and his guidance, sometimes I feel lost but I just move with the rhythm of the day, the week, the season. Cows must be milked, lambs born, seed planted, weeds pulled and grain cut; each one of these things ticks time and days away, giving me little time to brood on the losses.
Now winter is approaching, that time to think and plan for the next year. Other thoughts occupy my mind and now as my hands are not as busy, they have bubbled to the surface. It is clear Owler is no longer part of my future, for rumors of his arrival in Bree have reached my ears. Given that he has not written or come by, I can figure out for myself that his interest is gone.
It was Baldvin's invitation to the harvestmath festival that spurred me to shake off the cloud that had been hanging over me, a costume festival full of drink and dancing. With Mother’s help, I put together a lovely costume using an old dress dyed pitch black and inspired by my friend Crow, I acquired a raven’s mask and matching cloak. Perhaps too mournful for a celebration but perfect to remind us of the long, dark nights of this season.
The festival was successful and I was happy for Red and Blue, the pair of costumed men that have brought merriment and mystery back to Bree. People seemed to enjoy themselves and there was a variety of clever costumes. I was apprehensive at first, even with liquid encouragement and that of my friends. It is not my nature to be in the center of things so I hung back until Blue did me the honor of a dance. I had forgotten how much fun it was to let go of those restraints, to feel alive and like a young woman rather than an old spinster. I danced with a lovely Rohirric couple and with the pair of goats until my feet ached and my head spun with the strawberry mead, though I never removed my mask. I laughed with strangers and played games, it was a release after the hard work and tension of the harvest season.
I spent the late hours in the company of Red and Blue, we drank and spoke, yet never lifted our masks. I am so concious of what other people will think, after the scandal Piperel caused especially that the mask was a relief. There is a freedom in it, rather than being hidden one can be themselves without worrying about judgement or prying eyes and tattling tongues.
